Chaotic Impressions
by TheCoatedShade
Summary: It's John Watson's first year at Weirdsister College, where he meets the dark and myserious Sherlock Holmes.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is based on a TV show I really adore called Weirdsister College. It's a spin-off from The Worst Witch series. I thought it might make a good Sherlock fanfic so I hope you enjoy. Please tell me what you think :)**

**...**

John hadn't been to London for years, but if he was to be quite honest, he didn't miss the hustle and bustle of it all. He had caught several buses and then took the tube, now he was walking the rest of the way to his new school. It was his first year at Weirdsister College, and he was both scared and excited. He had done quite well at Camelot Academy, which was part of the reason why he got his scholarship to Weirdsister, but he also had a 'gift'. He had discovered in his second to last year at school, that he could bring pictures to life with his mind. It had happened one day when he was rather angry at one of his classmates; he had accidentally set a miniature wyvern on the other boy, after he'd sketched one in the back of his potions book. He'd almost been expelled, until the headmaster realised that John hadn't meant to do it. After that, his headmaster urged him to mention his talent in his application for Weirdsister College; he said it'd give him a better chance of acceptance, and it did.

John looked at his watch; it was ten to nine. He was supposed to be in Cambridge by nine. Correction: he was supposed to be in Cambridge, in the Weirdsister entrance hall by nine. He quickened his pace. Several taxis whizzed past him; if only he could afford it. He waited for a break in traffic. There wasn't one, so he waited for the cars to stop before he ran across the road. Cars beeped at him as they started moving again and he nearly got hit twice, but he managed to get to the other side unscathed. He was in front of a building called Misery's Café. It sounded familiar. He pulled from his pocket a scrunched up piece of paper on which he scrawled directions that morning. He was almost there. He walked briskly down the alley next to the café. There were several other people around his age walking through there, but he didn't want to ask them just in case they weren't from Weirdsister. Normal people knew of the College called Weirdsister, but they didn't know it was a college for witches and wizards. John looked back at his paper while he was walking. He looked at the last two directional instructions:

_Down alley next to Misery's Café_

_Through arched wooden door on right_

He was in the alley. He looked up. He saw a door in the distance. He jogged towards it and stopped. It looked about right; it was old and weathered. He reached for the handle and pushed, but it wouldn't budge. He kept trying, but still it wouldn't budge. He was beginning to panic. He knocked on it stupidly. Of course, nothing happened. He swore to himself, standing there, bewildered, next to the old wooden door. He'd followed his directions. He looked further down the alley; there were no other doors. He'd followed his directions and they were wrong, unless they somehow forgot to unlock the door? But that was stupid. John exhaled heavily and was about to walk back the way he came when a tall goth girl in platform boots approached.

"Excuse me," she said.

John stepped aside, and the girl walked _through _the door; straight through it; actually _through _the wood. He stood there, mouth slightly ajar for a few moments before coming to his senses. He looked behind him to make sure no one was watching and stepped through. He was expecting some kind of strange sensation, but it felt like he'd just walked through nothing. He's stepped into a wide corridor. He saw the girl from before and he ran to catch up to her.

"Excuse me!"

The girl turned around, her eyes shifting down to meet his face.

"How do I get to the entrance hall?" John asked.

"Uh… you go down the hall, turn right and… actually, just follow me. This place is big; it's easy to get lost."

John followed the girl through numerous corridors and staircases, until they were in an open room, which John had to admit, was absolutely stunning. The architecture looked Gothic, and stained glass windows lined the walls, depicting famous witches and wizards from throughout history. The room was bustling with students from all different backgrounds, each with their own stories. The girl turned to John.

"This is it." She said, and she strode off to the other end of the hall.

John took in his surroundings when someone bumped into him from behind. He looked over his shoulder but no one was there.

"See you 'round."

John looked around for the source of the voice, but still, the closest person to him was about eight metres away. So there was an invisible person lurking around. This was going to be an interesting year.

John spotted a group of students gathered around a noticeboard. He approached it; hopefully it would tell him what the hell to do next – they weren't very clear in the pamphlet. He stood at the back of the group until it thinned out. He scanned the board until he saw a table with the heading 'First Year Foundation'. He found his name and learned that he was in the Cerridwen Dormitory, and that Professor Hudson was his head of year. To give John an extra sense of relief, there was a small desk with maps of the college on the right of the board. He snatched one up straight away scanned the map to learn his way.

"Excuse me, are you in First Year Foundation?"

John looked up. A young man with brown eyes looked back at him.

"Uh, yeah." John replied.

"I'm Greg Lestrade; I'm in Foundation too. Any chance you have any idea how we find out where our dorms are?"

"Yeah, there's a table on the board just there." John pointed to said table. "And there are maps just there." He gestured to the table.

John waited while Greg looked at the board. He hoped he'd be able to walk with someone through the college, so then if he got lost, at least he wouldn't be lost and alone.

"Cerridwen Dormitory…" he heard Greg mutter.

"That's my dorm too." John remarked. "Do you want to find it together?" John held up his map.

"Sure thing; thanks, mate."

John and Greg found their way to the dorm, and upon arrival, were met by a strange sight. A tall man in a charcoal coloured coat brandishing a staff was fighting against a young woman in fencing gear. The man was very handsome with dark, wavy hair, and looked more like he was defending himself rather than fighting back.

"Skulking around in people's rooms!" the woman in fencing gear shouted.

"Alright, I get it, you can stop now!" the man said, and the woman finally settled down.

She pulled off her helmet. She looked rather flustered, her shoulder length brown hair wet from sweat around her face. There was another girl in the room; she had dark brown hair and a self-important air about her. She kept her eyes on the man in the coat.

"Sherlock Holmes." The coated man introduced himself.

His voice sounded very familiar… was it the invisible man from before?

"Irene Adler." The dark haired woman replied with a sly smile. "Would you like to stay for coffee?"

"Oh, no; I just thought I'd say hello. I was about to head out to the café though, if anyone wanted to come?"

Jon realised that Sherlock was looking at him. "Oh, uh-"

"I'd love to." Irene cut across, and she took her jacket of the hook by the doorway.

Sherlock looked back at John and Greg, nodded and followed behind Irene.

"Obnoxious toad…" the fencing woman remarked. "Deirdre Swoop," she introduced herself, shaking John's hand and then Greg's. "Second year; so if you ever need any help or have any questions, feel free to ask."

"What year was that Sherlock fellow in?" John asked.

"He's a first year." Deirdre replied. "But nevertheless, I have a strong feeling that he's going to cause quite a bit of trouble this year. He seems like the sort."

John left Deidre looking disgusted to take a look around his new home. The dorm looked quite nice; it wasn't posh or anything like that, but it looked homey. There was a small kitchen at the back and a dining table in the centre. There were two sofas to the right and doorways to what John presumed were the bedrooms on each side. One of the doors had a green sticky note stuck on it. John took a closer look. It read:

_John Watson_

_Gregory Lestrade_

"This is our room." John turned to Greg.

"Ah," Greg carried his bag into the room and dumped it on the bed.

John followed him in. there were two single beds, one on each side of the room. Each bed had a nightstand with a small lamp atop, and there were a set of drawers at the end of each bed. There was a small window on the right with faded red curtains and the walls were cream coloured.

"I think this will do very nicely." John remarked.

He opened his suitcase and began taking out his clothes and other items.

"I think I'm going to leave unpacking until later. I might pop down to that café, see if it's any good." Greg yawned. "Then an early night for me, I think."

"Alright, I'll see you later then." John replied.

After unpacking, John relaxed on the sofa reading a copy of _Spellcraft Magazine. _Deirdre had gone to the store to buy some milk, and Greg and Irene were out, so John had the dorm to himself, until his peace was disturbed by Irene slipping inside and placing herself on the sofa, right next to John. John looked up from his magazine.

"Hello…" he said awkwardly.

"Hi. I'm Irene." She smiled.

"Yes… I heard before. I'm John." He looked back at his magazine, but realised that he was being watched. "Can I help you?"

"I know I might seem standoffish, but I would like us to be friends." Irene stated.

John blinked. To be quite honest, he hadn't really had the time to form an opinion on Irene, let alone find her standoffish. "Okay…"

"How about I cook us breakfast tomorrow?"

"Alright…" John wasn't sure what the hell was going on. Was this some kind of weird flirting?

Looking pleased with herself, Irene stood up and disappeared in her room.

The next morning, after a severely burnt and unpleasant breakfast cooked by Irene, all the first years gathered in the library lobby for a welcome speech by the headmistress, Professor Thunderblast. There were several rows of seat set out on the patterned marble floor. John and Greg sat next to each other, still picking bits of their breakfast out of their teeth. The headmistress sat at a podium in front of the rows of chairs. To her right sat a young man in a brown pinstriped suit, with his hair sticking up in all directions, and to her left sat the head of the first years, Professor Hudson. When the first years settled, Professor Thunderblast began her speech.

"Welcome to Weirdsister. I hope I haven't dragged you all from your breakfasts… it's only ten o'clock after all." She looked to her colleagues who gave a short laugh. "Listen, I don't like long speeches, so let's get down to it. Tonight, by tradition, the new students will pass through the gates of humility. That much, you know. But there's something you won't all know, because it's been kept secret from you." John and Greg shared a questioning look. "Until now…"

"What the bloody hell." Greg paced up and down in the dorm.

Deirdre entered the dorm, and saw the first years' glum faces. "Well, the cat's out of the bag now, eh? How are we feeling?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Greg accused.

"Sworn to secrecy, same as you will be." Deirdre said, with her hand on her heart. "Look, I'll give you a little tip: don't get worked up about it.

"We're worked up already." Irene snapped.

"That's how it operates, The Eye. It sits in its socket in the Gate of Humility. If it glows green, you can walk through; if it sees you're worried about something, then it glows red. And then it pops out at you: something from the past; a misdeed, a mistake-"

"It's so unfair." Irene groaned.

"Relax! That's all you have to do: relax." Deirdre assured them. No one ever gets turned back from the gate." she laughed to herself. "Well, hardly ever. Just think of the Weirdfest afterwards! There'll be food and music… you'll be laughing about it tomorrow!"

At this, she left the dorm.

"Well, that was a great help." Greg mumbled.

"The fact is, none of us have a clean conscience." Irene looked around at the others.

"Oh no… it'll be my gran… with a list as long as a toilet roll! She _is _the All Seeing Eye!" Greg exclaimed.

"Stop it; we need to stop worrying about it." John stated.

"It's hopeless." Greg said.

"It will be if we give up that easy. There must be something…" John pondered.

"There is." Irene responded. "There might be a way to outwit The Eye. Ordinary spells won't work on it. But there's someone, right here, in this room, with a special magical gift."

John looked up curiously. Irene was staring back at him. "What, me?"

"What gift?" Greg inquired.

"I can draw things… and sometimes make them come off the page." John explained.

"Wow, that's amazing, but how does that outwit The Eye?" Greg asked.

"I've got a plan." Irene explained. "But it all depends on John."

"Look, I don't even know how you know about my… talent, but it sounds to me like you're asking me to cheat."

"Come on John, we all need your help."

"Well if that means getting involved in some mad plan, then the answer is no." John took his coat form the hook and left the dorm.

He couldn't believe Irene, whom he barely knew, was asking this of him. They weren't friends, and so far, he didn't like her very much. He walked through the halls and ended up in a grassy courtyard. He began walking across the courtyard when someone called his name.

"John."

He looked around. Sherlock was leaning against a tree. "Sherlock?"

"That's right… you in a hurry?"

"Yes, I'm on the way to meet my tutor." This wasn't a complete lie; he did have to meet his tutor at some point that day.

"Come on, you've got a minute." Sherlock gave a half smile.

John hesitated, but then stepped closer to Sherlock. The bastard was strangely persuasive.

Sherlock led him to a bench and sat down. John did the same.

"So, I've been hearing about these powers of yours." Sherlock started.

"How the hell does everybody know?" John stood up, angrily. "You're not in on Irene's plan are you, because I'm not doing it."

"It's okay, don't worry, I'm not going to pressure you. I know how you feel." John turned around. "You want to be straight; you don't want anything on your chest afterwards."

"Yeah." John agreed.

"I understand that."

"Do you really?" John asked, disbelievingly.

"You've had to struggle. You're not from one of these privileged wizard families; you've had to fight hard to get here, and still they won't let you be; still the past comes back to haunt you. The All Seeing Eye."

"I'm not going to cheat." John assured him.

"I'm not going to ask you to. I just want you to know that… I would have liked to have known you better. As soon as I saw you I knew you were someone I could be close to."

_What the hell is this guy saying to me?_

"What about Irene?" John asked. He wasn't completely sure what was going on.

Sherlock waved away the name. "It was you I invited to the café; she just pushed her way through. But that doesn't matter now anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to be here much longer. I have made one, big mistake; one that weighs on my heart like a tonne of lead. I'll be out of here tomorrow."

John looked up at Sherlock not knowing what to say. He stood up. "I've got to see my tutor." He turned and left Sherlock on the bench.

That night came quickly, and all the first years gathered in the library, adorned in black robes. It was tradition. John had his drawing in his pocket; his drawing of the All Seeing Eye in its socket. He'd managed to get a description of the eye out of Deirdre without raising any suspicion.

"Look man," Greg started. "Sorry about before. I'm going to face this thing with pride."

"Don't worry about it. I'm happy for you." John faced Professor Thunderblast, who was standing in the centre of the room.

"Quiet!" she boomed, and she placed a wooden case in front of her and reached into her pocket to pull out a scroll. She opened the case and began reading an incantation off the scroll. A white glowing orb, The All Seeing Eye, rose out of the case, and nestled in its socket in the centre of the large library archway.

Students were called forth one by one, many passed through as The Eye glowed green, but it glowed red for Greg, who stopped in his tracks as a ghostly figure of his grandmother appeared, reciting all the mischievous things he'd done in the past. Red and embarrassed, he walked through when his grandmother finally stopped reciting, and wished him luck in his education at Weirdsister.

John saw Sherlock was moving closer he reached in his pocket for the drawing and gave a nod. Sherlock stepped forward in front of the archway. John held the drawing in front of him, staring at it intently. The Eye glowed red. Sherlock shot a look at John. The drawing rose from the page and moved over The Eye, masking it. The eye changed green immediately and Sherlock stepped through. John was about to summon the drawing back when Irene stepped forward and stood in front of The Eye. It staying green, she stepped through the archway too. John doubted she could have done that without his help. He summoned the drawing which appeared back on the page, and he stepped in front of the archway. He looked into the eye and it glowed green for him, so he stepped through. Although he didn't really have a dark past, he had expected something to come up.

The ceremony concluded and Professor Thunderblast stepped forward.

"Bravo, everyone. Now Off we go to the Weirdfest!"


End file.
